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First Irish steps

Ok, I suppose I should be writing in English from time to time: please help me improving by correcting me. I am counting on you!

We left Turin on a Sunday Morning. There was sun as we woke up, we ate the pastries which Andrea and Giulia brought home. Then we took a look at what we left in the house and they brought us to the train station.

We spent the day on the train between Turin and Milan, on the bus from Milan Central Station to Bergamo Airport and flying to Dublin. I realized from the plane that it is an island: it is surrounded of water in all directions. We are, a few millions, insulated from the rest of the world, the sea between us and the civilization which flew from Rome, from Paris and the cafè, from the Spanish movida, from the serious calm which spreads from Germany and Switzerland.

Still, we are not alone. A bunch of kind and helpful people seem to populate the isle. We have met them since we jumped on a taxi to reach our hotel, conveniently located above a famous disco (ear plugs available in the rooms). We ate something, drank a Weiss bier somewhere.

The day after I have some reminiscence of the first time in Karlsruhe, when I knew no one and walked along the streets. I remember as I found the first place where I could take picture, drink a nice coffee, surf on the internet. I remembered the internet cafè where I spent many evenings. Then I left that part of the city as I moved in HaDiKo. It still remains my own private memory, before the Erasmus period.

And we moved to this temporary house, which we share with Pablo, a Spanish guy from Medina.

We got an Irish SIM (one each), we started the procedure to get a PPS number (the Irish for a social security number or a “codice fiscale”), we visited some apartments, we visited a bank to ask about opening a bank account.

So we are moving, shaping a life. It is strange because I have this “ghost job” planned for the future, which I will start in ten days or so (something less), but I do not know nothing (excluding the French one). All my life is “shapeless” here. The people I care are on the other side of the sea. Here I am an unknown face.

And still, the way the Irish speak to you make you feel like everyone is your friend, there to help and care about you.